


The Faroese Prodigy Child

by latrunkster



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Child Prodigy, Creature Inheritance, F/F, Femslash, Magical Inheritance, POV First Person, Polyamory, Polyfemslash, Rating May Change, Slow Burn, Soulmates, Trans Female Character, Vampires, Veela Mates, Wrong Boy-Who-Lived (Harry Potter), eventually
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-10
Updated: 2021-01-17
Packaged: 2021-03-14 08:40:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28667880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/latrunkster/pseuds/latrunkster
Summary: Nobody considered the possibility that the prophecy child might be born to muggles. Follow the mysterious, precocious Iða and her falcon familiar as they leaves their home of the Faroe Islands and join the Witching World. She'll soon discover an inheritance that will rock the foundations of witching society... she will be the heir of two of the founding houses of Hogwarts, and be a third each of three different species...AU with an OC as the prophecy child. Magical inheritance, Creature inheritance, eventual lesbian quartet.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Harry Potter, Original Female Character(s)/Ginny Weasley/Fleur Delacour
Kudos: 7





	1. Wanderer above the Sea of Fog

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I already have 44k words of this written, so stick with me and you're guaranteed some good reading! And until I run out of prewritten material I can still focus on my other works, which you should definitely check out!

When Sybill Trelawney read the prophecy of the one who would defeat the Dark Lord, no one, nobody whatsoever ever considered the possibility that this one would be muggle-born. In translating the prophecy from its most ancient language and intonations, the archaic vocabulary showed its patriarchal culture in that there were no gender-neutral pronouns, and the prophecy child was assumed to be male. And when the seven month died, and the Dark Lord assumptiously entered the Potter house, and the mother Lily and the Dark Lord on a fluke happened to slay each other's corporeal forms, and shrapnel from the duel cut a nasty scar-inducing cut on the infant's forehead, the little Harry was branded the boy-who-lived. Of course, the Dark Lord was in hidden truth not yet completely dead, and the true prophetic prodigy child was untouched, on an island far far away...

* * *

I wondered if I would ever find the magic, the feeling that everything was right and... calm. I didn't know many things, but I knew that despite this wonder, perhaps even in spite of it, that I would never find that magic. Things would never be the same, because things were never right to begin with.

I knew my name was Iða. I knew I had been living on my own for the better part of eight years, as long as I could remember. I knew my cache of stolen food was full. I knew I was different, unlike anyone else. It was something I had always known.

If you looked at me, you would see an inconspicuous thirty-year old woman in simple winter clothing, because that was safer than appearing as a lost, eye-catching child. If I wanted to go somewhere, I could just close my eyes, think about the place, open my eyes, and I was there. If I wanted to run really fast, I could do that too. If I wanted to sleep out in the barren cold, I could do it comfortably. If a bird approached me, I could talk to it, even though they were most often grumpy in their responses. If I swam underwater, I could stay down there for nearly an hour. If I wanted to examine the lacing patterns of a stranger's clothing from a league away, I could do that. If I wanted to see what other people were thinking, see their memories, I could do it. If I wanted to rip a boulder from the ground, flatten it, and skip it across the ocean waters, I could it, _with or without even touching it_. I could pull the tempestuous ocean water into the air, billions of sparkling droplets producing a rainbow, and strike the eye-candy with a lightning bolt. If I wanted to fly, I could, with a wispy black smoke in my wake. If someone got hurt, the smell of their blood was not unappealing. If you looked at me, you would see that I was alone.

Nobody else was like me; I was alone in my abilities. And so I avoided the people, having quickly learned to avoid attention, or else people treated me like a freak or at other times, on angel on earth, worthy of worship.

I was sitting there on the beach, watching the tide coming in against the gravelly shore. Lone seagulls flew high in the air toward a washed-up corpse of a fin whale a league away. On the other side of the island, I could hear Føroyingar on motorized boats corralling whales into a shallow bay before slaughtering them for food. The other people were always so crude, traveling slowly from place to place, or using metal contraptions they called cars, or boats on the water. The children were giddy and naive, even as they were now watching the deaths of the whales with glee.

Well, there was this one time I had met people who were also different. They were different, yet still different from me. I pulled up the memory from five summers ago, watching it perfectly:

 _Finishing a swim to a lone, barren island, I felt my feet_ _begin to find purchase on the bottom. I trudged and waded through the water and onto the gravel beach. It was low tide, so the beach was a open tract of gravel. I made my way toward the center of the island, to the hill on top, for the sake of the potential view._

 _But the moment I stepped off the beach and into the grass, I was stopped. It was something I had never felt before. There was just a... wall, an invisible one, which I could not pass through. I focused my vision, and only saw a faint,_ _vibrating_ _shimmer. Yet I saw insects and particles of dust floating through the barrier just fine. What was stopping me? Experimenting, I used my power to lift pebbles from the gravel, and fling them toward the barrier, to no avail._

 _Then_ _the alarmed, danger-intenting man_ _appeared, my senses felt him, out of thin air, similar to how I would teleport._ _Startled, I turned to him, and he was pointing a stick at me. A red light suddenly cast out from it, flying toward me. I 'eeped' in fright, throwing a cloud of gravel toward him, intercepting the light on its way to me. Then I felt a sudden, stunning pain in my back as something hit me, and I was flung through the air. When I crashed into the ground, I faded into blackness._

 _When I eventually came to, I found myself lying wrapped in warm covers, on the softest bed I had ever been in. In my sleep, my adult body had morphed back into_ _one that agreed with my actual age, and I was in different clothes. They changed my clothes? Why? Did they see me naked? What did they do to me? I heard noises elsewhere in the building I was in—four of them. Two adults, two young children._

 _Despite the comfort of the bed, I was not comfortable whatsoever. These people had overpowered me;_ _they were_ _more powerful than me, and I could not trust them._

_So I had instantly teleported away, back to where I started, and used my power to dry myself._

And where I had started, was this beach right here, the one I was at right now. I could see the island in the distance, across leagues of the open sea, and I could actually see those people out on the beach, wading in the water. I recognized the man who had attacked me; it appeared he had a family, playing with him in the _magic_ that I was missing. I imagined that everything felt, well, just _right_ to him. While I was alone.

 _Well I am here for you,_ my bird _Að_ i thought to me in the chirpy bird language.

Ah yes, Aði, my falcon companion. I felt so alone as to think I was alone, when in fact Aði had stuck with me since I had found her four summers ago. Her mate had died, and so she had to abandon her nest of eggs to the cold or else starve herself. I had found her mourning over the loss, and we had been together since, sharing our loneliness. And yet unlike other birds, I had found that we could _think_ to each other. _Yes,_ I thought back, _I think if it weren't for you, I would have gone insane a long time ago._

 _Oh I think you're still insane,_ the bird bit back, _but I appreciate the sentiment._ The crazy bird always did that, not out of an actual personality of pettiness or spite, but out of concerned argument. She gave me other perspectives, helping me see things with a birds-eye view, pun intended. She was fiercely loyal, insisting on watching me whenever I slept, wary of any intruders.

Speaking of intruders, I saw some approaching now. Leagues away, flying over the ocean, I saw two birds flying toward us. _Owls?_ I questioned, examining them. _What's that they're carrying?_ The one owl split off, heading toward the distant island with those mysterious people on it, while the other continued toward us. The bird landed a distance away, obviously wary of Aði's presence. The item it was carrying, which looked like a piece of paper, was released and started floating in the air in front me.

Startled at the sudden, floating movement I jumped back with all my enhanced speed. But the paper remained there, floating. Carefully, I approached it. The owl seemed to be waiting for something—for me. I grabbed the paper out of the air, and then the owl flew away.

Examining it, I found that it was a sleeve containing more fancy-looking paper inside. The papers were covered with the symbols I recognized as writing. There was just one problem.

I didn't know how to read.

I looked back across the water, to the family in the distance. They looked happier now, hugging each other as they were holding papers that looked like mine.

 _It must have been for them, and the owl took it to us by mistake. Can you fly over and give it to them?_ I asked of Aði.

 _My instinct tells me you are wrong, but okay,_ she thought back before picking up the letter and flying away with it.

When my falcon arrived there with the papers and dropped them on the beach, just sitting on the gravel, not floating like before, the family looked at it with confusion.

The big man went and picked it up, examining it with obvious confusion, looking around. Through Aði's senses I heard the man and his wife speaking to her, but neither of us recognized the language. Aði flew back cautiously, giving safe distance between herself and the family.

Feeling like I needed to back up my bird, and feeling comfortable in knowing that all of them would be in front of me (instead of sneaking a hit from behind me like last time), I morphed into a less-threatening, child body suitable for my age, and transformed my clothes to fit. I didn't know if they would see through it or not, but I knew it worked on everyone else. When I was ready, I closed my eyes and teleported to the island, standing with my bird.

Instantly the two adults drew their pointy sticks, and I tensed at this, ready to teleport Aði and me away, or fight back. The two just kept pointing their sticks at me, examining me, while their two children huddled behind them. "Halló, my name is Iða," I said in the language of the Føroyingar, trying to be placating.

The tall, dark-haired man, who still held the papers in his hand, looked back at them, and then back at me, and with Aði now climbing onto my shoulder, he made the connection that the papers were from me. Then the man said something in that language I didn't recognize, and I didn't respond. He turned to his short, blonde wife, and they whispered to each other; I heard every word but understood none of it. Turning back to me, the man said in the other language the islanders sometimes speak, "Do you speak Dansk?"

Smiling in understanding, I responded, "Ja, hallo, and my name is Iða."

"Hallo, I am Tabo Gerlof, and this is my wife, Caroline Gerlof."

"I think those papers were for you," I say, getting to the point. I didn't know if I wanted to know these people, didn't really know why I was talking to them.

"No," said Caroline, taking her turn to look at the papers, "They are addressed to you."

"Oh, I'm sorry for bothering you then. I didn't know."

"Did you not read them?" The woman arched a brow.

"No, I..." I stammered, not used to giving away information about myself, "I don't know how to read."

The two quieted, looking at me with obvious concern, obviously understanding the implications that fact had on my living situation. Caroline asked, "Do you have any parents?"

"No... none that I know of," I answer honestly, for reasons I don't know. I had an instinct to trust them, or something.

 _Yes, trust them..._ Aði thought to me.

"Oh, this will never do," said Tabo frustratedly. I take a step back, not understanding his meaning. He sees this and clarifies, "This letter here," he gestures to the papers, "is an invitation to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Ahem, Miss Iða, we don't know what you know, but you are a witch, as is Caroline. And I am a wizard. I was just upset at the situation... you see, Hogwarts is an English school, and if you don't know how to read, they have left you unprepared."

"Why... why would I want to go there? I'm different."

"Yes!" Tabo said in agreement, "Everyone who goes there are young wizards and witches like you, with abilities like you. It's magic, a magical school. You can go there to learn more about yourself, and make friends with people like you... you have been alone, right? This is your chance, Iða, to get out and not be alone anymore."

 _Not alone anymore?_ I thought, pondering the possibility. I was still wary of others, but at the same time, I didn't want to live alone on these islands forever. I could at least try to become closer to this family. "Okay," I answer, "What do I need to do?"


	2. Identity

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those not knowing, 'Føroyingar' is the demonym for people living in the Faroe Islands, which is a small wind-swept group of islands north of Scotland in the North Sea (between Iceland, Scotland, and Norway).

The Gerlofs took me in, letting my stay the night in the very same bed I had woken in five years ago. I had to introduce them to my bird Aði when she followed me into the house, and fortunately they were accepting of her, calling her my 'familiar'. They apologized for our encounter five years ago, and they offered me temporary residence at their home. They fed me and let me go to sleep, saying they were giving me time to just get comfortable with them and think about it.

And so I just rested there in the soft bed, letting the covers embrace me in comfort. Something I found odd was how much everyone else slept. I usually only slept three of four hours per night.

I also heard Tabo and Caroline talking to each other downstairs, and talking to their children, all in serious tones, but doing so in that language I couldn't understand. I would try to memorize the sounds themselves though, so that I could perhaps understand them later. Serious words tended to be important.

This language thing too, it sounded familiar and yet not familiar at all. I had grown up on these islands, as far as I knew, and so I knew the language of the Føroyingar. That language and the 'Dansk' language were similar, with many words being or sounding the same. I had learned the 'Dansk' language a few years ago, just by eavesdropping on kids learning it in their schools. I followed along rather easily, feeling I was more limited by the slow-paced students only being able to hold limited conversations. I also had not practiced speaking it; in fact I hardly spoke at all anymore. This new language was similar to Dansk in a way that Dansk was similar to Føroyingar, but _further_ , in a sense. I was not a linguist.

A part of me still didn't want to be here. These people were unknowns; this 'Hogwarts' was unknown. And unknown things were dangerous, obviously. But skills were valuable; languages were, and reading and writing too if I could learn it. This family could teach me these things; and in a way I was still safe, as long as always kept them in front of me, and I could always teleport away.

.

.

.

When we all finally slept, and I woke up in the bed, I felt a sense of déjà vu, and I almost panicked before remembering yesterday's events.

I was a _witch_. I was invited to this _English_ school called _Hogwarts_ , with people like me. _I might not have to be alone anymore._

Aði jumped down from her perch on the furniture next to me to coo and rub her face against mine. I felt that she was tired, having stayed awake all night without a chance to sleep. I transformed one of the coats Tabo said I could use into a cozy backpack for her to sleep in while I carry her. I didn't want to risk being separated from her.

"Iða! Breakfast is ready!" Caroline called for me from downstairs; it felt very domestic, as if I were any other kid waking up to their parents. But these were no my parents, so I took it in stride.

When I came down she told me good morning and gestured for me to sit at the table. I carefully sat in a chair that let me see all entrances to the room. It smelled like she was cooking eggs, but I only knew the smell from spying on people in restaurants. I hadn't ever eaten cooked eggs myself. A part of me was affronted by it; over the years, birds were the only ones I could talk to, and here I was going to eat a baby bird. I didn't want to speak out about it though, thinking that it could be seen as rude to refuse the food. It had been easier for me to eat foods that didn't need cooking, like crackers or fresh fruit, so I didn't have much experience eating cooked animals.

Eventually the whole family was down, sitting at the table and eating breakfast with me. The conversation was stilted and awkward, and their stress toward the situation was comforting somehow. The parents introduced me to their two sons, Hector and Edwin. The one was the same age as me, also starting Hogwarts, while the older one was going into his second year. The children didn't speak to me at all, only saying a few words to their parents. They probably didn't know Dansk. And this now made me feel like I was interrupting their lives, because I was. I supposed I should be thankful for that. "Tak for hjælpen," I said in Dansk as we finished breakfast.

The parents said, 'You're welcome', before sending their children upstairs. They then talked to me more about themselves; Tabo was Frisian, Caroline was English, and this summer home in the Faeroe Islands was where they were staying until Hogwarts started back up in a few weeks. During the rest of the year, Tabo worked as a coach for a sport called 'Quidditch', while Caroline was a writer staying at home or following Tabo's team in their travels.

Then then whispered to each other in English, before turning to look at me with grave faces. Caroline said, "Iða dear, we thought about it more, we are worried that because you cannot read and because you do not know English, that just going into the school like everyone else would not be good for you. We were thinking that we could wait a year just to learn these things, or we could ask the school to create a separate program for you. What do you think?"

I didn't know the situation would be these complicated. "Well," I said, "if we asked for a program and they say no, I could still wait a year anyways? So ask."

"Okay dear, we will ask them about it. One of the people from the school may want to see you for themself, is that okay?" I nodded.

Then the father, Tabo spoke up, "Iða, how much do you know about magic? What can you do?"

"Well," I said, "I can do lots of things. Can you ask for something specific?"

"Let's go outside," he said, and I followed him while Caroline stayed inside. It was weird to walk out the door sideways, keeping both of them in my field of vision. When we outside, he asked, "Can you create a light?"

I did this, any many more things, progressively getting more difficult. I didn't really know _how_ the things happened, I just knew what I wanted to do, and I _pushed_ for it, and it would happen. Holding out my hand and flicking my wrist sometimes made it easier.

Creating light, creating fire, creating water, casting it all out. I redemonstrated the teleporting and my control of stone. His eyes widened further and further. I refrained from doing anything he didn't ask me to do, for the safety that is privacy. When he asked if I could read his mind, I shook my head no, even though I knew I could if I wanted to. From his reactions before I guess I was more than he anticipated, and I didn't want to stand out too much. "You are powerful," he said in agreement, "you do things even I or Caroline cannot do. This is good and bad."

I arched a brow, wanting him to clarify.

"Being powerful means you can protect yourself. But it also means people will want to control you, use you. You must hide this Iða, or else bad people will come for you. Do not do things you do not see other children do. Do you understand?"

I nodded. Yes, I had always known the value of information, and how it was best in some cases not to appear threatening. I wasn't interested in interrupting some powerful wizard's claim over his dominion. If that was even how wizarding society worked. I really didn't know.

.

.

.

The next few weeks passed slowly. Every day, Caroline helped teach me English and how to read and write, to give me a head start. I learned all of the alphabet the first day; I really already knew them in a way, having seen all of the symbols and words before, but I just hadn't been able to attach any meanings or sounds to the glyphs. She taught me to read, write, and speak fifty English words per day, and I supposed I had a good memory, because they were very impressed by this. Sometimes there were words I overheard from conversations meant to be private, and when I derived their meaning and tried to use them in my own sentences, it confused them. They also gave me a few beginner's level books, a Dansk-to-English dictionary, and a journal to write in. So I would at least make it to school with a child's level of English, and along the way I had learned a few more basic things about the magical word, like what wands, muggles, and secrecy were.

At one point an old lady from Hogwarts came to meet me. When Caroline and Tabo told her of my situation, she looked at me with what seemed like genuine pity, and a bit of anger at the situation. Her name was Professor McGonaggal, and through a conversation of broken English and Dansk translations, we came up with a plan where I would go to Hogwarts, but I would live and learn separately from the other students before slowly integrating myself into classes and the dorms.

My relationship with the family members improved, at least on a superficial level. One time I helped Caroline make breakfast, and one time outside I helped Tabo move and flatten some stones to make a path to the beach. I learned that the reason the house wasn't visible from outside the island was magic, and the barrier was something they had made to help protect them; they modified the barrier to let me pass through, so that I could come and go if I needed to, although I didn't really take advantage of that. The kids Hector and Edwin though, they still thought I was weird and they often busied themselves with toys and gimmicks that didn't interest me. I was at least now comfortable turning my back to them, just as they trustingly put their backs to me all the time. It wasn't _magical_ , but it was a start.

A week after the lady from Hogwarts visited, Tabo and Caroline told me it was time to go back to Britain, and they showed me how to use the fireplace and floo powder to go to their home in Britain. We didn't stay there for long before flooing again, this time to a place called Diagon Alley to purchase school supplies, they said.

I clutched Caroline's arm as we walked through the crowds of strange people; the winding streets were filled with adults and children, many of them dressed in garish, outlandish clothes.

We first visited a store filled with animals. The Gerlofs said their their youngest son Hector needed an animal, and I was okay to keep Aði. I didn't know what I would do if they said I couldn't keep Aði, probably teleport away.

Then Caroline and Tabo pulled me aside, and asked if I knew what money was. I told them yes, but that I had never had any of my own before. They told me they would be kind to me by giving me a small sum of money to buy my school supplies. We would have to go to this place called Gringott's, as I could store my money there safely, they said.

We walked there and entered the narrow, crooked building. Creatures the Gerlofs called goblins filled the room full of desks, working with stern-faced expressions, while we walked to an imposing desk on the far end.

"Miss Iða," a goblin addressed me in a croaking voices after speaking to Tabo, "Come with me."

I looked back to Caroline and Tabo for assurance, and Caroline said with a smile, "Go dear, you'll be safe, and we'll be waiting for you here."

I followed the short goblin through a door and down a dark, dank hall. I didn't, well, _feel_ , like anything was going to wrong. I just hoped Aði was right about this 'instinct' stuff.

The falcon, still perched on my shoulder, thought, _yes, trust them, but do not fall victim to them._ I held in a snort at that.

We stopped at a nondescript door that looked like any other, and stepping inside. Behind a desk was another goblin, one who looked like he had a permanent scowl etched into his bone structure.

"Ay, yes, Miss Iða, come here..." the goblin drooled out, somehow knowing my name. The goblin who led me here disappeared back through the doorway, closing it. "To open an account... we must know who you are... and you must know who you are. We have a test to do, one of blood."

The goblin unfurled a scroll of paper on top of the desk.

He explained, "This paper is enchanted... pour your blood on it... and your blood be revealed..." And he conjured a knife into his hand, one which had obvious stains on its blade.

"How much?"

"Just a drop... all of it..."

So which was it, a drop, or all of my blood, or all of a drop? I knew from experience I couldn't actually bleed out anyways. Whatever.

I took the knife, slit my wrist, and let my life force ooze out onto the paper...drip drip drip. The blood seemed to simmer, as if the paper was hot enough to boil it.

The goblin took the scroll, furled it up, and stood still for a few seconds before rolling it out again with a dramatic flair.

On the desk the paper was there, and the words were written on it. I did not understand all the words, but this was what was there:

**Name:  
Iða**

**Birth Date:**

**July 31 st, 1980**

**Species:**

**1/3 Witch**

**1/3 Vampire**

**1/3 Veela**

**Bonds:**

**Gail Scamandiss (mother)**

**Unknown (mate)**

**Unknown (mate)**

**Unknown (mate)**

**Titles:**

**Regina Avibus**

**Heiress of the Most Noble and Ancient House of Ravenclaw (magical inheritance)**

**Heiress of the Most Noble and Ancient House of Hufflepuff (magical inheritance)**

**Heiress of the Most Noble and Ancient House of Le Fay (magical inheritance)**

**Abilities:**

**Avemtongue**

**Metamorphmaga**

**Natural Elemental Magic**

**Natural Wandless, Wordless Magic**

**Natural Learning**

**Natural Legilimency**

**Natural Occlumency**

**Necromancy**

The goblin gasped in reading it himself, his face contorting into a shocked expression I would have thought geometrically impossible for him to make. But it disappeared quickly: a wide, maniacal grin broke out on his face.

"Well, Lady LeFay-Ravenclaw-Hufflepuff, we've been waiting for you..." At my confused expression, he continued, "As you may have been told, we goblins have... self-interest so to speak, and I suppose it would be... mutually beneficial for me to explain all of this to you, yes?"

I didn't take his words lightly. He was asking for a trade, a trade of information for future favors. Which would imply that I would _be able to_ give future favors so powerful as to be important to them, and that the information was _valuable_ , that _I_ was valuable.

People must have come here all the time—and I couldn't imagine the goblins asked favors like this from everyone. Or maybe they did. But this was the point where my instincts went from trusting them to trusting that they were being nefarious.

"No," I said, thinking that after memorizing the scroll's contents, that I could do the research on my own. "Dat vill not be necessary," my Faeroese accent showing itself.

"Fine," he growled with a scowl, as if everything was _not_ fine. "Here is your purse, the pockets in it are linked to your... many vaults, and it is keyed to your blood... so only you may access it." He handed me the tiny bag. "It was a... _pleasure_ doing business with you, Lady LeFay-Ravenclaw-Hufflepuff. Now get out." He pointed harshly toward the door. My rejection of his offer before must have really set him off.

Not wanting to upset the magical creature further, I left through the door and walked back to the entrance of the bank.

"Caroline!" I called out, running toward the woman, and hugging her. It somehow felt right to hold her, almost magical.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Would you believe me if I told you that I never read the original Harry Potter books? I've read lots of the fanfic though! xD
> 
> If you spot any encoding errors let me know. I have to manually fix each one from copy+pasting from libreoffice.


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